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Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Original Prompt: You have one of the fastest reaction in the world. Your body reacts to something before your mind even realizes it. One day, your hands start doing the motion as if you were catching something. But you couldn't catch it. You do this for many years. After 10 years, you finally succeed.

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"You know, if you're feeling cold, you can head into my house and warm up. My parents aren't home," Lucy smiled as she said that. Her finger twirled in her blond hair.

My heart skipped a beat seeing her smile. Out of all the girls in school, Lucy had the most radiant of them all. I looked into her house, then back to her. My hands dug deeper into my jacket. Lucy's invitation was tempting, but my mum's lessons on being a gentleman echoed in my mind.

I shook my head. "Nah, it's okay. Wouldn't be good if I do that."

"Oh," Lucy simply said, before going back into her house. Her smile was no longer there. "Goodbye then."

"Goodbye," I tried to say, but the door closed in front of me. I walked away, feeling proud of myself. It was a good date that evening. I had brought Lucy to the skating rink and the movies, and we both enjoyed our time together.

A few feet away from her house, however, my hands started to swing upwards, as if it was trying to catch something. It happened every fifteen minutes or so, palms outstretched, but never catching anything. And it continued throughout the weekend, then months, which evolved into years.

The condition baffled my parents and I. Doctors were not able to come up with an answer as well. Because of it, I was withdrawn from school, and I never saw Lucy again.

It was not until 10 years later, when I was browsing an AskReddit post, arms flinging beside me, when it hit me.

"She was asking me to go into her house so we could make out!" I shouted, alone in my mum's basement. My arm stopped shooting upwards, finally catching Lucy's intention.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

"What?" Captain Justice's face contorted into a shape that I had never seen before. I could hear him breathing heavily, perhaps trying to keep his anger under control. Probably the first time someone ever talked back to him. But as the constantly kidnapped victim, I figured that I had at least earned that right.

"You've heard me," I said as I freed my hands from the ropes that bound me earlier. "Since you're complaining so much, let me be the hero instead. You be the kidnapped heroine."

Captain Justice opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and walked away. He kicked one of El Loso's thugs in the process, sending the poor guy crashing through the nearest cubicle. Groans of pain followed. At least someone was having a worse week than mine.

I followed Captain Justice to the edge of the floor, near the broken window that he broke through. He was staring at the skyline below, the great city of Ipoh, the city under Captain Justice's watchful eyes. I could tell that he was still unhappy at my earlier outburst.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said earlier," I placed my hands on his shoulder and squeezed it. "I shouldn't have asked you to be the kidnapped heroine instead."

"Besides, even if you're kidnapped, I'm sure you'll be out in a jiffy," I chucked at my own joke, trying to lighten the mood. It has been a long day for the both of us. El Loso, one of the Captain's many enemies, tried to turn the city's residents into Human Tacos for his latest plan.

To delay the Captain, he kidnapped me as a distraction. The fifth person to do so in a week. Unfortunately for El Loso, he severely miscalculated the Capatin's superspeed, and like many before him, was given a good beating even before he could say 'What?'

Captain Justice shook his head, still refusing to look at me. "You're right. For someone without powers, I cannot even begin to imagine how would you feel if you're constantly kidnapped to be used a a leverage against me. You have every right to be angry at me."

"Well, it's not that I-"

"Shhh." The Captain placed his finger on my lips. I felt the warmth of my blood rushing to my cheeks, as my heartbeat increased. He leaned in close to me. I could smell the sweat, and had to resist the temptation to run my hand down his back. Despite the inconveniences of being kidnapped, I did enjoy the thrill of being saved by perhaps the most eligible bachelor in the city.

"You have a right to be angry. And I am sorry for complaining about you being kidnapped every time by my enemies. They do think that you're my girlfriend, after all," the Captain whispered, his voice suddenly as sweet as honey. His finger moved from my lips to my hair. "I know how to finally make things right."

My heart wanted burst out in anticipation. I had hoped that all those kidnappings would be worth it, and finally it was coming true. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" I gasped.

The Captain grinned. "No. I'm solving both our problems."

Before I could react, I felt a strong push from my back.

"Goodbye," I heard the Captain whisper, as I lost my balance and plunged from the 67th floor of the building.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

I still remember the day we exchanged rings. I asked Michelle if there was any reason why mine was thicker than hers, but yet lighter at the same time. She laughed it off, said that I was thinking too much, and threatened to leave me for her pet Maltese if I continued to pester her with stupid questions.

I responded by pulling her into my arms, locked her lips in mine, and shouted the loudest 'Yes' in my life. And that was it. The ring followed me ever since, for fifty straight years, right until the day Michelle passed away.

Looking at how the ring broke into two, I finally understood. Why my ring felt lighter than hers, even though it was supposed to be made of solid gold. It was hollow inside, with a note hidden in it.

"My love, if you're reading this, then I must be dead," the note read, in a handwriting that was painfully familiar. It was amazing how Michelle managed to fit a piece of paper into a place so tiny, but that was Michelle for me. Always slipping surprises into places that you would least expect. Lunch boxes, freshly ironed clothes pockets, even in my toothpaste tube.

"Just wanted you to know that marrying you was the best decision in my life, I love you," the note ended. Oh Michelle, even in death you're still able to surprise me. I put down the note on the table, my chest suddenly feeling heavy. The house never felt quieter, lonelier.

I never knew how much I would miss the sound of her voice nagging me to eat breakfast, the sight of her sitting in her favourite chair, the smell of her favourite shampoo. All I was left with were the memories with her. A bittersweet reminder of what I no longer have.

I picked up the note, wanting to read the message again. As the note hovered over the window, I noticed writings on the other page of the paper. I flipped the note to see another sentence written on the other side. "But if you happen to find this note a little too early, then oops! Still love you! <3 p="">
The date was signed on 14 September 1965. The date of our wedding. Michelle had written the note on our wedding date, not knowing when I would find it. I chuckled at the message. It was one of the many small little pranks she would play. "Looks like I found this just when you intended," I muttered, looking at the urn beside me.

I folded the small note, and placed it in a box together with the gifts that she has given me over the years.

The note in the ring was not the only note Michelle left me. Over the course of the next few months, I kept finding other notes around the house, hidden in places that Michelle knew I would not approach when she was alive. In the washing machine, the cabinet where she kept her sewing kit, the drawer filled with our bills.

The notes were more elaborate than the one in my ring, detailing experiences that we once shared. "Remember how you swore never to touch the washing machine after the mini flood you created?" read the note she had placed in the detergent box. It was like she had prepared for this her whole life.

I kept all of the notes in her box, labeling the place where I found them carefully. When it is my turn to leave, I will bring Michelle's box with me, together with all the notes, so that when I see her again, we can laugh and talk about all of them, just like how we have always done.

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Original prompt: It has been a year since your spouse mysteriously died. You are fidgeting with your wedding ring when a compartment opens and a note falls out. It starts, "My Love. If you are reading this, I must be dead...3>

"Okay, Mr Alan, I have your records. Can I confirm your father's and mother's name please?"

"Tan Bo Seng and Patricia Wong Siu Lee."

"That is correct, Mr Alan. How can I be of service today?"

"Yes, I would like to complain about the statistics that you've measured for my life. You say that I have killed six people before, but for as long as I lived, I never killed anyone. I don't recall any of it. And now you guys want to send me to hell?"

"Hold on a second Mr Alan... yes according to our records, you have indeed killed six people before. We believe it's in a place called Numbani."

"What? Where the hell is that? I have never left Singapore before my entire life! How could I go to a place such as Numbani?"

"Ah, Mr Alan, we believe that particular place where Numbani is located is called Overwatch. That's where you made those kills. We even have records that you killed this woman called Mercy three times as well."

"Wait a minute, you're referring to that stupid computer game that my son tried to make me play? That isn't even real?"

"Mr Alan, are you a Christian?"

"Yes I am, but I don't see what is the connection here to-"

"What is commandment seven, Mr Alan?"

"What the hell? Like I said, I don't see what's the need here to-"

"What is the seventh commandment, Mr Alan?"

"Oh my fucking God, I don't have the time for this. I demand to speak to your supervisor! This is all one sick joke, I don't deserve this stupid standard-"

"The seventh commandment is 'Thou Shall Not Kill', Mr Alan. The commandment does not make exception. Thou shall not kill whether if it's in real life, in your fantasies or even in a game. So according to our records-"

"Stop! Stop right there! I demand to speak to your manager! This is ridiculous, I am not going to go to hell just because of imaginary people I killed in a game!"

"I'm sorry Mr Alan, but rules are rules. You yourself said this when you're alive. What the bible says is final and absolute. Games involved."

"No! Where is your manager? Ask him to talk to me, right now!"

"I am the manager, Mr Alan."

"Right, and I am God himself. What is your damn freaking name?"

"That is blasphemy, Mr Alan. My name is Simon Peter. I guard the gates."

"..."

"I'm sorry, Mr Alan, but given your records, you are doomed to hell."

"No, this must be some mistake! Please!"

"Goodbye Mr Alan, and thank you for calling."

Death metal music begins to play again, as Alan's screaming voice is swallowed by the portal that opened beneath him.

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Prompt: When a person dies and reaches the afterlife they can see their life's statistics which determine if they go to heaven or hell. Ex. How many people had crushes on them, how many swears etc. You die and find out you killed 6 people and have no recollection of it.

"Ah, no wonder it felt familiar," I stare at all the words we have crossed out on the paper. I had imagined discovering a superpower would be more exciting than sitting in my room all day, brainstorming. "Wait, shouldn't Captain Marvel be Marvel's copyright, not DC?"

Nick gives an exasperated sigh. "Look, Amy, we've been here all day, are you going to do this, or what?"

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," I say, as I cross off the word Shazam as well. Nick was right. The sun is already setting outside the window. We have been sitting in the room all day.

I write down another phrase on the paper. Nick laughs almost immediately. "Are you serious? Meow? That's what you're going for?"

My cheeks turn red as I quickly cross off that phrase as well. "I thought it was... cute."

Nick notices that I am angry, and quickly quiets down. His arm slowly slides behind my back, and pulls me closer to him. Despite feeling frustrated, I still love it when he does that. "Come one Amy, why can't you just shout anything that comes to your mind? I am sure what you shout is nothing to compared to your powers."

I lean my head on his soft shoulder. Nick is everything that I have in the world, and his shoulders have been my support for far too many problems that I have faced in life. When I first found out that I had teleportation powers, Nick is the first and only person I told. "I don't know Nick, a superhero has got to take care of her image, you know? What would all the other villains think of me if I scream something like 'cheesecake' or 'pooping' during a fight?"

"I think that is absolutely charming," he says, with that smile of his. "Speaking of cheesecake, don't you think it's time for a little break?"

I nod. All the thinking has made me quite hungry. I crumple the paper on the table and fling it to the wastepaper basket. "Seriously, what good is this power if I can't find an awesome catchphrase?"

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Prompt: You just found out that you have the power of teleportation, but it only works while you are screaming. You quickly learn the drawbacks to your new found superpowers.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

There were a hundred of us. Spread throughout the earth when it was created, with no knowledge of where we came from, or who created us. We watched as the earth boiled, cooled, and life slowly sprang up. We were there when the first bipedals emerged, slowly evolving until they resembled us. The homo sapiens.

Then we realized that we may have been put unto earth for a greater reason, and so we integrated into society. We helped produce the fire, invented the wheel, built great structures like the pyramid. We thought that it was our divine purpose, to lift the homo sapiens to a greater plane of existence. We were treated as gods and kings.

Rightly so too. Because we were given the gift of immortality. The hundred of us shaped the course of humanity as we saw fit, creating civilizations, ending them, starting wars, writing history. But that was so long ago.

We thought we were doing good, preparing the humans for what was intended for them. We thought we were the conduit to salvation, enlightenment. But they never came. As the humans grew, they began to see that our gift as more of a bad omen, and started to hunt us down. I was there when they captured Annika. The few of us saw how they tortured her, pushed her limits, just to see the extent of her powers.

It was the first time we knew how immortal we are too. Burning, drowning, dismembering, even blending, we could survive all that. She tried to kill herself numerous times, but we were also immune to our own attempts to take our lives.

When we saved her, even though her body was intact, her mind was gone. She was... broken. It was then when we discovered that we could kill each other as well. It was Jareb who put a pole through her heart in frustration. To our amazement, Annika's wounds did not heal. She remained dead, like a normal human. More than half of us chose death that day.

The rest of us, we walked away. Too cowardly to finish each other off. Too selfish to lose what we had. The rest of us went into hiding, and that was the last I ever heard from anyone. Our decision that day did not leave any room for those who had a change of heart, which I did.

After a few centuries of living, I was bored and tired. Humanity, despite all the technological advancements, were still dicks. I tried to make the world a better place, but no matter how hard I tried, the world remained rotten. There were things that even an immortal cannot do.

Sick of everything, I wanted to call quits. But the remaining immortals, I did not have any idea of how to find them. With seven billion humans around the planet, there was no way I could accurately narrow anyone down. It was then when I devised my plan. To once again influence the course of events of the world.

"Sir, sir? There seems to be a dozen missiles headed our way, and our defenses are not built to stop them!" a voice interrupts me. I turn to see the worried face of General Lancaster, beads of sweat already running down his face. The alarms are going off around the base, and I spot several red dots on the monitor behind him, headed for our location.

General Lancaster is not wrong to be worried, as the missiles launched Russians and Chinese as a response to our all out preemptive attack will surely decimate our location. It is what I am hoping for,after all. I grin at the general. "I know."

He opens his mouth to ask me a question, but a loud flash of light interrupts him. A loud blast follows promptly, and I see him, along with the rest of the place, slowly disintegrate before me. Everything is over in an instant.

After the blast, my body slowly begins to recover, each cell bonding with each other. I feel my body rebuilding itself, like how it has always been. Just that I have never been annihilated in a nuclear blast before. Two hours passes and before I knew it, I am standing in what used to be my office, a brand new person.

As the dust settles around me, I walk out to the open field, and admire the ash filled sky. Even if any normal human being survived the initial blasts, the resulting nuclear winter, in the next couple of years, will surely kill them. And then, I can finally set on the journey to find my brothers again, and beg them to finally end my life.

I am sure they will.

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Prompt: You are an immortal, tired of living. With the knowledge that no one can kill an immortal but an immortal, you set out on a journey to end all journeys, literally.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

I used to love Pokemon. When the game first came up, I pestered and begged for a Gameboy. I remember how magical it felt, exploring the region of Kanto, catching and training Pokemons. Days and nights were spent in front of the Gameboy. Until one day, many years ago. I hated Pokemon after that. The day is still fresh in my mind, like it just happened yesterday.

It was a school day, in the afternoon. I ran up my room as soon as I reached home. Class could not have ended sooner. My Gameboy was waiting for me on the table. It was a big day for me. After weeks of mindless training, my beloved Pokemon team was finally ready to face the Elite Four. The battle that I had been expecting for weeks. My friends were already talking about their victories in school, and I could not wait to brag about mine.

My fingers flicked the power switch on. The screen loaded like it has always done, the words Pokemon hung on the top of the screen. I pressed the A button continuously, unable to contain my excitement. The arrow hovered to 'Continue' and I waited excitedly to hear the music of the Elite Four as the screen faded to black. My mind was already imagining the strategy that I would employ to defeat the opponents’ Pokemons.

What greeted me, however, was not the Poke Center outside of Elite Four, where I had saved the previous day. It was the music that came through the speaker first. The only music that I hated in the entire game, because it made me uncomfortable. The music of Lavender Town. My character was standing in the middle of the town, alone. There were no NPCs around, and the buildings in the town looked different. The roofs had holes in them and the walls were filled with cracks. A slight fog hung over the town.

My first thought was that my little brother, James, had messed with my save file. I was about to shout bloody murder to him when a message box popped up on the screen.

"It's not your brother,” the message on the simple text box read. I tried pressing the different buttons, A, B, Start, Select, but the message refused to disappear. Feeling a little creeped out, I pulled the power button down, thinking that something was wrong with the game. The Gameboy, however, refused to turn off. No matter how hard I pulled or what I pressed, it continued to repeat the music.

The first message then faded to another. "It's no use. You are scared."

By then I was scared. It was like a presence was in my room. In a state of panic, I turned the Gameboy over and snatched the batteries out. No use. The Gameboy stayed on. Another message appeared on the screen.

"It's no use. You cannot turn this game off." I heard a soft giggle mixed together with the music, and the screen flickered. A shadow appeared briefly on the screen. A gassy form, with hollow eyes and mouth. It was staring at me, and the whole of my body was filled with dread.

Being a teenage school boy, I freaked out immediately, dropping the Gameboy to the ground and running to my room's door, screaming at the top of my lungs. I twisted the knob and pulled at the door, but it would not budge. Panicking, I shouted for my mother and James. I pulled and bang the door, hoping that they would hear me. They should have been home. And usually they could hear me with no problem. But there was only silence that day, despite my shouts.

The whole house was utterly quiet, except for my voice and the music from my Gameboy. I ran to the window and tried pulling them open, but they too were jammed shut. I was locked in my own room. It was then when I heard a voice whispering through my Gameboy, the same voice that giggled earlier. Like a small child’s voice, but it was distorted with static.

"How does it feel, human? Being trapped in a place where you cannot escape? Forced to play a game you don't want to play?"

"Who are you?" I shouted back at the Gameboy, tears running down my face.

The voice in the Gameboy giggled again, this time slowly, dragging each syllable in its sentence. Hi. Hi. Hi. And it continued its monotonous giggle, letting it blend together with the Gameboy’s music, slowly filling my room.

"Stop it!" I shouted, curled up by my room's door and with my hands pressed against my ears. But my Gameboy ignored me. It continued to taunt me with the music, as it continued to increase its volume. As it was doing so, I saw the shadow running past the rooms of my wall, its eyes fixed on me.

I thought that I was going to die or the game would do something horrible to me. But in a moment of sheer panic, I ran up to my bed, took the Gameboy, and flung it with all my strength to the window. The Gameboy shattered the glass with a loud crash, and then smashed unto the sidewalk below. The music and voice stopped immediately.

The noise brought my mother running out from the house. Looking at the broken Gameboy, she stared at me in disbelief. She had bought me the device with almost a month of her pay. “What on earth you think you were doing?” she screamed.

I told her about everything that had happened. The voice, the music, me screaming for her, but she claimed that she did not hear anything. Even James, who was sleeping in the room next to me, heard nothing. My mum refused to believe my story initially, but when she saw that I was trembling in tears, she kept quiet.

I never found out what happened that day, nor am I interested to know. My mum never again bought me any gaming devices after that day, though I am not complaining. A few years after the incident, my mum admitted that she bought the Gameboy from a second hand store, though she did not know the story behind the Gameboy. The store closed down before she had a chance to ask.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

"You've got to be kidding me!" T yells exasperatedly, as she watched the group ran off on their own. She has been trying to get them to eat llama meat for months now, only to have all her work ruined when K appeared with a mutilated corpse with maggots bursting out of its torso, claiming that eating llama meat does that to the body.

He was grinning ear to ear as a counter appeared on his head, adding a hundred points to the string of numbers. T glared at those numbers. "You know merely influencing a small behaviour is not going to add a lot of points, right?"

K shrugged at T's words. He snapped his fingers twice, and the corpse beside him disappeared. "Even though you say that, but I don't see your points being anywhere near mine."

T rolled her eyes, ignoring K and the number counter above her head. She would have netted almost ten thousand points if the entire group had tried the llama meat. She even did the whole feat just by pretending to be a doctor and creating some news articles online. The bonus was going to be huge. But K just had to appear and ruin everything.

T snaps her own fingers, and her glasses and clothes disappeared, replaced by the golden silk dress and a crown that she usually wore. She then turned her head to K. "Can't you just have left me alone?"

"And let you get those sweet 10,000 points? You've gotta be kidding me," he retorted. T groaned. K was known for his strategy of ruining the games of others. She had hoped to accomplish her goal before he appeared. After all, there were 26 of them in the game.

"Can't you just have gone to P? He's gotten so much point now," she asked. P was leading the game, almost a few million points from the next person in the list.

K shook his head. "Nah. I can't get anywhere near him without being shot at. That dude is a genius. Being a politician to influence people. He don't even need to use his powers now to control anyone."

T sighed. P was not the only one who was using the politician way. After seeing how successful he was, almost everyone tried to copy him. But it was too easy a method to win the game. And T hated politics. The 26 of them have enough politics on their own. She knew K hated politics as well.

"So... why are you out here in the open, besides to steal my points?"she asked, as she sat on a nearby rock, staring at the llamas on the field. The humans were long gone, leaving only her and K in the open field. She may not get many points here, but she enjoyed the view.

K sat next to her. "Honest answer, or not so honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

K gazed at her, before turning his attention back to the open field. "I'm feeling a little sick of this game already. Influencing mortals, but not controlling them. All to see who's better. And see what kind of shitty world we turned out with."

T chuckled. K was right. When they first started, the game had seem innocent. But along the way, the players have used their own creation to engage in proxy wars, sacrificing millions of lives just for the sake of points. It was one of the reasons why she chose the unconventional path instead.

"So... what are you suggesting then?"

K plucked some of the grass from the ground, before releasing them to the wind. It was the first time T noticed how dreamy his eyes looked. He then turned to her. "Lets start a new world together."

T's eyes widened. "What?"

K grabbed her hands. He brought them to his chest, and T felt a strange warmth surge in her body. In the millions of years since she existed, she has never felt this way before. K's face was only inches from her. "I say lets start a new world together. Without this stupid game. Where we are free to help our creation, instead of using them as our own personal tools. Lets create a utopia, a place that is a thousand times better than this shitty earth."

T gulped. The thought as never crossed her mind before. "Are we even allowed to do that?" she whispered.

A familiar grin flashed across K's face. "Never try, never know. Are you up for it?"

Friday, July 14, 2017

It’s a fact that flowers will never become outdated in terms of gifting. Can anyone ever get bored of receiving or gifting flowers? In my own opinion, you can’t deny the power that powers hold, as they are able to transform your entire day, the mood, the setting and sometimes even your relationship with people! But there’s a florist that introduced an entire new thought behind gifting flowers, which is so far from just grabbing a bouquet from the florist around the corner. A Better Florist is the best florist in Singapore, and here’s why.

First of all, the design of the bouquets and arrangements is aesthetically pleasing definitely outside of the box. Their blooms are carefully put together, so that every time you order a bouquet it’s going to be unique, beautiful and fresh. And as impressive as the design might be, I was shocked by the freshness of these beautiful creations. None of my orders so war where wilted, or looked borderline sad, like you usually experience buying from a florist stand. Their blooms exude vibrancy and should be a symbol of freshness.

After some time I spent scrolling through their website, I learnt that they grow these statement blooms on a farm on Cameron Highlands, where they nurture each bloom to utter perfection. They aren’t picked for their convenience, they are picked when it’s the right time so that the blooms look just like on their website.

It’s definitely a major plus when you receive exactly what they claim you will receive. The freshest arrangements and beautifully designed bouquets aren’t the only perk of buying from A Better Florist. The entire shopping experience is a breeze, as there are no complex forms to fill out, nor is it necessary to stand in long lines, waiting to grab the bouquet that’s left. Their website is supremely user-friendly, and you can shop till you drop from your phone or your computer.

The best flowers in Singapore aka A Better Florist, allows you to choose from a modest selection of blooms, so that the choosing process doesn’t last for hours. You pick one of their signature bouquets, and you click on the shop button. I believe you’ll find everything you need, from birthday bouquets, to anniversary bundles and funeral wreaths in Singapore.

Last but not least, their delivery system guarantees that you will receive flowers in record time, no matter where in Singapore these flowers need to be. Not only that, but they also deliver on the same day, promising a swift delivery within only 90-minutes.

The entire story behind the A Better Florist is what drew me in and got me hooked. I learned that you should never settle for average, even when it comes to flowers. And the fact that their philosophy is special is proven by their expansion beyond Singapore. I was amazed to see that they have a Dubai Florist and that they also provide Hong Kong flowers.

And to prove that I’m totally fair and unbiased to towards this brand, they’ve been officially proclaimed to be the best florist in Hong Kong. With this impressive track record, I highly recommend you check them out. And I dare you not to be amazed, because it’s literally impossible.

Monday, May 29, 2017

"G," my finger spelled the word across the padded wall, as I struggled to focus. The handkerchief that I had tied around my leg did little to stop the blood flow. My shirt was damp with red, and already a small puddle was forming beneath my leg. I cursed at the unconscious body beside me. That bastard hid a knife underneath his jacket.

"U," I began to spell the second word, but my vision was beginning to blur. If I were to escape, I needed a second plan.

I dipped my finger on the small puddle of red, and beneath the words "G" and "U", I spelled out the words "Needle" and "Thread". They both magically popped out in the air, and dropped on my bed. I smiled. No wonder the guards tried so hard to keep me from remembering. Despite the cloud of drugs, my mind still managed to piece the puzzles together.

I dipped my finger again in my own blood, and on the wall wrote the word "Whiskey." A bottle of Jack Daniels landed not far from the needles and thread. I was hoping for a Johnnie Walker, but a bleeding man cannot be a chooser.

I stumbled unto my small bed, the cushion barely covering the metal frame below, and reached out for the whiskey. Never have I felt so comfortable on the bed before and my eyes wanted to close there and then. I had to pinch my wound to force my self to stay awake.

Like how I managed to knock the guard unconscious, my body moved on its own with the thread and needle, as if I had done it numerous times before. I dabbed the alcohol on the wound to disinfect it, wanting to shout bloody murder as the pain hit me, before stitching myself back up. It took my less than five minutes to finish.

Once I was done, I took a swig of the Jack Daniels. The liquid burned all the way down my throat, but I savoured every drop of it. It has been far too long since I had anything to drink. Memories began to slowly trickle back to me. My life has been good once. I remembered cocktail parties and balls, along with the laughter and smiles of my family. All of which the bastards at this jail must have taken from me.

The blood flow stopped, I staggered back to the wall, and finished my word. "N".

An ACR rifle dropped unto the floor, along with a pouch of ammo. The exact thing that I needed. My powers can be quite forward planning sometimes. I was surprised that I recognized the gun's model, despite having no memory of using guns before. They pumped me so full of drugs that I could not even recall my own name. But my torture was about to end.

Grabbing the gun and ammo, I began to push the steel door open, with the barrel of the gun aimed outwards. It was past lights out time, and the place was quiet. No one had notice yet that the guard outside my cell was missing. That was good. I slowly crept out of my cell, before making way past the shadows along the corridor. I have never see past the door of my cell before, and it turned out that my cell was the only room on the corridor. I had thought that the prison might have been bigger.

I crept past the corridor, moving swiftly. I had hoped to avoid any confrontation if possible, and if I was lucky, I would be able to reach the office safely. My body still ached, but as long as I could get hold of a pen and paper, I would be unstoppable.

As I turned the corner however, I walked into a muzzle of a gun that was pointed directly to my head. Behind the gun was a woman, in her mid-fifties, with streaks of grey between flaming curls of red. "One more step and you're dead."

Her face was one that I instantly recognized. "Mum?"

The woman's face looked at me stoically, betraying neither a hint of smile nor surprise. Despite knowing that she was my mum, my emotions bubbled underneath at the sight of her face. Hatred, contempt and the pain of betrayal.

My fingers squeezed my rifles trigger, and three bullets exited the chamber. They were supposed to be too fast for my eyes to see, but they glided slowly towards the direction of my mother, like paper airplanes. Mother had her hand in the air, with a slight smirk on her face. "Oh, I see that you have not recover your memories fully yet, or else you would have known better than to shoot me. With a gun, nonetheless."

She stepped out of the bullets path, and dropped her hand. They pierced through the wall behind her with a bang. "My dear boy, it's not only you who has superpowers here."

I immediately aimed my gun at her, despite knowing how futile it would be, but two strong arms from my back gripped me. My rifle fell to the floor as I turn to see the face of the guard, who was supposed to be dead.

"Thought you killed me?" he sneered, reading my expression. "Like mum said, you're not the only one with powers here, brother."

"What?" I cried out, as I tried to free myself. For far too long I had believed that I was held by the government or a secret organization, kept against my will because they wanted to harness whatever power that I had. Family was last on the list. "What do you guys want?"

"This is punishment, my boy, for betraying your family because of a mere mortal girl," she whispered. It was then when the memories hit me. Emily. My wife. Her face slowly crystallized in my mind. Those piercing blue eyes of hers and that smile that could melt anyone's heart. We were planning to start a new life together, away from everything.

"Where is she!" I shouted, as the anger came surging back. "Where is she!" I repeated, thrashing wildly. I snapped at mother, trying to kick her, shouting like a madman, but she merely stood there, her slight smirk now a satisfied smile.

"Good, good you're feeling the anger. The pain of betrayal. Just like what you put us through. Which makes it so much better when we wipe your memory again," she said and waved her hand.

"No! Please no! I will do anything!" I screamed, kicking and turning myself. But my brother held me firmly as he dragged me along the corridor, towards the lab where they pumped me with drugs.

"I win," I saw mother mouthed, before she disappeared behind the corner. It would be a long time before I see her again.